Exodus Chronicles II: Embracing Adversity
by DreadPirateSephy
Summary: "Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end." One adventure is over. The next has just begun. Unfortunately, it began with the flu, a cockroach, and waking up on concrete. Self-Insert, part the second. Between angels showing up unannounced, demons messing around in dreams, and the odd girl in the center of it all, babysitting just might be harder than Ash thought...
1. Down with the Sickness

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Dark-Hunter; Sherrilyn Kenyon owns those, along with all her other awesomeness. I am just borrowing them for a little crazy fun. ALSO: This story IS a self-insert, and a sequel, but it's not your usual case of either. If you want more information about the previous story or the series, then look on my profile or message me and I'll be happy to answer your questions, though any important series-relevant information will be covered in this story, so it shouldn't be necessary. Also, a few warnings: this is NOT a romance story, and any pairings will follow Dark-Hunter canon; other canon-related facts might be subject to change, and will almost definitely be warped by the sheer contagiousness of my insanity. And possibly set on fire… Enjoy! :3

**Embracing Adversity**

**Chapter 1: Down with the Sickness**

The pounding in her head wouldn't stop. Every time she moved it made it worse. She could hear Azriel murmuring something, and a cool hand brushed a strand of hair from her face. That was when she made the mistake of opening her eyes; the light made everything worse, and she might have screamed, but then the pounding and ringing and spots overwhelmed her abused senses, and she slipped gratefully into blackness.

Mara woke up feeling like she'd been hit by a train. She groaned pitifully and shifted, only to almost pass out again. _'That was not a good idea…'_ she thought as she fought the reflex to vomit. A few deep breaths steadied her enough for her to recognize the feeling of cold concrete underneath her cheek. "Wha-…?" she croaked hoarsely.

"Stay _down_!" commanded a familiar voice, sounding more agitated than she'd ever heard it. Panic made her heart leap into her throat, and the pounding in her ears doubled. She whimpered, and, despite orders, still tried to get up. The sounds of fighting finally reached through the pound of her own heartbeat echoing in her ears, and she fought the weakness and aching in her limbs. Before she could stand, however, there was an agonized scream that turned her blood to ice, and then the familiar blackness crowded in.

Acheron told himself that it wasn't his place to interfere in the business of archangels, even when they suddenly appeared in a nearby alley and started fighting weird demons. At least until he heard the scream, and realized they were protecting a human, and not doing too well. He silently cursed as he raced toward the alley.

The archangel stood protectively between an unconscious girl, two angels, and a demon of origins unknown even to Acheron's omniscience. But no matter where it was from, it was no match for an archangel _and_ an Atlantean god. With one last leer, it disappeared. The archangel turned and nodded his thanks to Ash before checking on the girl. "She'll be alright; she wasn't hit," he told to the female angel, and Ash finally noticed the blood covering the second angel cradled in her arms. "How is Azriel?" She looked up in fear and sadness.

"Not well. His injuries are beyond my ability to heal. I can't even identify what caused them. He must be taken to the Seraphim…"

The archangel looked distressed, glancing between the bleeding angel and the girl slumped a few feet away. "You know we can't just leave her, and only Azriel can send her home…" he said softly before looking over at Ash cautiously. "Might we impose upon you, sir?" he said, a glint of hope in his eyes. "Could you please watch over this girl until we are able to return for her?"

That had not been the request Ash had been expecting, and before he could stammer out a reply through his surprise, the archangel smiled and professed his gratitude before he and the two angels disappeared, leaving the girl unconscious near his feet. Ash blinked. "I should have kept walking…" he sighed, irritated and not at all looking forward to this as he glared down at the kid. With another sigh, he knelt beside her and cautiously placed a hand on her forehead. After a moment, he pulled away with a frown, puzzled. He was absolutely blind to her; all he could sense was a fever and a flu virus on a rampage. "Dammit," he swore again. Muttering curses to himself, he pulled out his cell and dialed. "Kyrian…" he said blandly as the man answered. He ground his teeth in irritation at having to say the next words that left his mouth. "I… need a favor…"

After he'd given the former prince his location, he returned to check on the girl. She stirred as he laid a hand against her forehead, and he could tell she was slowly fighting her way back to consciousness. "Azriel…?" she murmured quietly, turning toward the contact.

"No…" Ash said, pausing, and realized he'd have to explain what had happened to the angel she'd mistaken him for. But that could probably wait until she was coherent… "Acheron," he corrected her gently.

She sighed softly, her eyes still shut. "Oh… hey, Ash…" she mumbled, and he wondered if her surprising familiarity was due to more than just grogginess. He was almost certain that there was more to it when she frowned, brows furrowing, seeming to realize something was amiss. Slowly, she blinked her eyes open, and once they could focus, he was positive he saw recognition in them. He was back to uncertainty at her next words, though. "You look like a dinosaur right now…" she giggled, then stopped, her face a little green. "Why is the ground moving…?" For a terrifying moment, the part of her brain that could still work wondered if something had gone wrong, and she'd landed on Atlantis as it sank. It would be just her luck…

"…It's not…" he replied, edging a little further away, just in case his night wanted to take a turn toward _The Exorcist_.

"…Oh… shit…" She swallowed heavily, squeezed her eyes shut, and tried to breath through the agony that was movement. Halfway through the act of sitting up, she changed her mind; something in her stomach was not down for moving right now, and she didn't think this was the best time to challenge it. "That wasn't a good idea…" she groaned, and a tiny part in her brain couldn't help but think that should she puke on the Atlantean, he'd probably put her out of her misery. Something twisted in her heart then, as the snarky voice she was so used to chastising her for such thoughts remained silent. Her heart racing, she turned to stare up at the ancient god watching her cautiously. "What… what happened to Z…?" she asked, and there was so much fear in her voice that Acheron found his irritation with her slowly melting. It wasn't her fault he was stuck with her, after all. Or at least that had been his reasoning before she next opened her mouth, and any uncertainty he'd had about her knowledge of him and his was blown out of the water. "I mean my Z, like Azriel Z, not your Z, like Zarek Z," she blurted, and somewhere through his shock, he recognized her attempts at fighting back her fears with her ramblings. "Zarek is… wait, where _is_ Zarek right now? Is he still in Alaska?" She frowned, and realized she might need to learn when exactly she'd landed before she started talking about things that hadn't happened yet. Of course, that would be made much easier if she weren't feeling like absolute hell, and fast reaching the panicking stage of worrying about her missing angel buddy.

Acheron, meanwhile, was having to force himself not to jump to the worst conclusions available as he studied this girl more closely. "I'll tell you what happened to him," he informed her finally, voice stern and distant. "But first, I want you to tell me exactly how you know my name and about Zarek."

Mara forced herself to sit up, and there was the smallest glimmer of fear in her eyes, though Ash couldn't be certain if it was for herself or the angel. Yet. If she were smart, he thought, she'd be a bit more worried about herself right now, because depending on her answer, that archangel might have another casualty on his hands. "You aren't going to like this," she warned, and he was interested to hear the note of resignation in her voice; there was no fear there as she addressed him. "That angel, Azriel? He's my guardian angel," she began. "And we're one of the teams that gets sent to other worlds sometimes." She paused, glancing up at him, and was a little relieved to see he was still listening. It was a rare enough thing that she took heart from it, and with a deep breath for courage, she continued on to the part that would almost certainly push the Atlantean god frighteningly close to "apocalyptic rage mode". "The world I'm from… it's a lot like this one; almost identical, really… except… there's this series of books… and, well… they're about the Dark-Hunters… and you…"

The only visible sign that Acheron was currently enjoying the idea of blasting this kid into oblivion right now was an almost imperceptible tic as his jaw clenched. "…How much do you know…?" he finally asked, his voice low and dangerous. The girl gulped nervously, and he was not reassured that she was starting to look afraid.

"… Um… well… pretty much everything…" she admitted quietly. "But if it helps, back home, those books are entirely fictional. And you're like, one of the most popular characters." She could tell by the look on his face that it did not help.

"So why are you here?" he asked, almost reluctantly, his voice clipped as he fought the anger and terror rising as he waited for answers.

"I… I don't actually know…" she admitted sheepishly. "This is only my second… mission… I guess you'd call it? Vacation, maybe, but that implies not having to do anything, and last time I ended up stopping a war, so that's probably not the right word… Quest? No, quests have goals…" She stopped herself before her word-vomit succeeded in _seriously_ pissing off the ancient Atlantean. "Usually I'm not told where I'm going or why I'm there… I guess they want me to figure it out for myself… I'm sorry that doesn't help…"

Acheron was silent for a long time as he digested this scant information, and took little comfort in the fact that this child had been sent by angels. They probably didn't have any sinister motives, he reasoned, given that it was rather against their nature, but he'd never trusted himself to the better natures of beings before, especially not the heavenly ones. Still, even the weak readings he could glean from this girl were enough to reassure him that she, at least, was sincere, and most likely not a threat. Unless she told anyone the things she knew… Maybe it was a good thing he was supposed to look after her; it would be easier to keep an eye on her that way. He was pulled from his contemplations by a soft query of his name, and looked up to see his new ward fidgeting nervously with the zipper of her jacket and glancing up at him as she tried to find the words she was looking for.

Finally, a look of determination and resolve settled into her eyes, and Ash wasn't sure which surprised him more, the sudden change in her demeanor, or what she said next. "I know saying "I'm sorry for what happened to you" doesn't change the fact that it did happen, and probably doesn't make you feel any better about it either, but… I am sorry and… and this is gonna sound weird, but I seriously look up to the person you've become, and not just because you're really tall… but that is also true…" Ash sighed, and realized that of all the people who could tell his dark secrets, this girl was probably the last of his worries in that department. He was fairly certain that even if she tried, her odd way of saying things would keep anyone listening from actually being able to understand her. Thank the gods for the little favors.

* * *

**A/N: So… thus begins the second stage of the saga… :3 Recently edited because I couldn't read the last half of this chapter without wanting to puke. Next chapters will be edited and re-posted soon.**


	2. The Kids are Alright

Disclaimer: I do not own anything created by the amazing Sherrilyn Kenyon; I just like popping into her universe and wreaking havoc, mayhem, and chaos. :)

**Embracing Adversity**

**Chapter 2: The Kids are Alright**

The kid really did have to crane her neck to an almost painful degree just to see his face, Acheron mused dryly. At her fullest height, she barely reached his elbow… He sighed, forcing himself to remain focused as he was reminded of why she was staring up at him from so far down with those trusting brown eyes full of questions. "That angel, Azriel, your guardian…" Ash began, and the small spark of fear he could see growing in those eyes almost made him regret having to tell her the actual news. "He was hit by something demonic, and not even the archangel who was with the two of you knew what. Or how to heal it. They took him home, and, for reasons I am beginning to seriously question, left you with me."

For a moment, the girl was fine, breathing calmly as she digested this information. And then, as suddenly as a strike of lightning, the world spun out from under her, and through the uncontrollable shaking and hyperventilating and the bile rising in her throat, she felt two hands on her shoulders steadying her as they eased her to the ground. It did nothing to halt the racing thoughts that kept whispering insistently that she'd gotten her guardian angel—and, she realized suddenly, best friend—killed. It was all she could do to keep the tears at bay, and she wanted to scream until her throat was bleeding, though she was a little worried that if she opened her mouth she'd lose a lunch she hadn't eaten.

"Put your head between your knees. If you puke on these boots, I really might kill you," commanded the deep voice above her. She did as it said, focusing on the soothing lilt of the barely discernable Atlantean accent and not on the panic and terror threatening to overwhelm her.

Once she was able to breathe without seeing spots or gagging, she peeked up timidly. "Sorry… for… for causing so much trouble…" she squeaked shyly, quickly looking back down.

There was an almost inaudible growl of frustration, and she heard him take a step back. "It's… not your fault…" came the reluctant reply, and cautiously, Mara peeked up at him. She stayed quiet, unsure of what to say and afraid to say anything else stupid that might upset the god further. The silence stretched out awkwardly, only to be broken on the edges of uncomfortable by a sudden, explosive, and stunningly amplified sneeze. The sheer reverberation of sound bouncing through the alleyway was enough to startle Acheron, and an unbidden pang of sympathy squirmed through his armor as a wave of pain rushed over the girl. He wouldn't be at all surprised if that sneeze hadn't given her whiplash. Wordlessly, he materialized a handkerchief and passed it to her. She got out the first syllable of a thank you before another sneeze erupted, and he was taken aback to see a few sparks leaping from her fingertips and dancing along the edges of the cloth. One of them caught with a whoosh, and the handkerchief went up like flash paper in a rush of blue flame.

For a moment, neither Ash nor Mara could tell who was more stunned, though the girl's reaction alarmed the Atlantean more than her haywire electrokinetics. A strangled, whimpering sob slipped through her shock, instantly followed by a flood of tears. His first thought was that she'd been burned, but he saw no obvious injury—only an odd glow shining weakly beneath one of her sleeves— and still the tears continued. "What's wrong?" he asked gently, crouching in front of her. If anything, this seemed to make her more upset, and her lip wobbled before she wailed and buried her face in her sleeves. "Hey…"

"E-everything…!" came the muffled cry. "…M-mostly me…" The words were faltering and broken with sobs that made it difficult to understand, but the sentiment behind them was hard to miss. "I-it's all my f-fault…! I'm so stupid… I-I got s-so upset about that dumb fight with my roommate… and if I-I hadn't… hadn't whined to Z s-so much he… he would never have brought me here and gotten hurt and you wouldn't be stuck dealing with me and I'm sorry…!" She spoke quickly now, looking up without really seeing. "All I ever do is mess up, and then everybody has to fix all my mistakes because I'm too stupid to do anything right and all I can do is screw up, bother everyone, and waste oxygen that could've been breathed by someone better! I'm like a flu virus!" Mara cried in a soft rush of jumbled emotions, hiccupping sobs, self-loathing and a high-grade fever. "I AM a flu virus!" She fell back into her sleeves, curling in on herself and wailing mutedly. "My _hair_ hurts…"

"Hair doesn't have nerve endings, dingus." Mara looked up with a sniffle, and what she saw surprised her enough to halt the tears. A few feet away stood an archangel, glowing a gentle green and supporting a heavily bandaged Azriel. "And having the flu does not make you the flu. You are not a virus. Sometimes I wonder if you're a vegetable, but you are not a single-celled organism. And what? I'm gone for all of twenty minutes and you have a meltdown? Who was it who was saying just the other day that she could handle her own shit?" While most people would be at least mildly offended by this, Mara instead smiled weakly, wiping her eyes as a few relieved tears trickled out.

"Shut up, Z," she replied automatically, though without any of the usual bite the words carried. She forced herself to her feet and pulled her guardian angel into a bear hug, hiding her face against the bandages that made her heart hurt. A moment later, though, she retuned to her normal self, pulling away and slapping his arm lightly as she glared up at him. "And don't you EVER scare me like that again! The next time you come that close to getting your stupid ass killed, I will drag you back to consciousness and kill you myself! With a spoon!"

"That's SO scary, coming from a teeny girl who can't sneeze without falling over," Azriel replied dryly, smirking.

"Alright, children, play nice," the archangel cut in with no small amount of exasperation.

"She started it," Azriel replied immediately, earning himself another glare.

"Did not," Mara shot back, the picture of maturity.

"I don't care who started it, I'll finish it! Now both of you sit down and shut up before I kick both your asses."

"You've been spending too much time with Michael," Azriel muttered quietly, doing his best to seat himself without assistance and failing. At his wince, Mara moved to help, but wasn't in much better shape herself, and almost took both angels down when she blue spots began dancing in front of her eyes and she wobbled dangerously. Another pair of hands eased the two invalids to the ground, and Ash got a nod of thanks, a sleepy smile, and a small bow by way of gratitude.

The archangel straightened and offered a hand to the Atlantean. "Thank you for all your help, and please accept my apologies for any inconveniences they may have caused."

"You say that like all the inconveniences are our fault," Mara observed with a stern glower that was slowly replaced with guilt as she was leveled a Look. "Ok, so most of them are, but not, you know, ALL of them…"

"… Need I remind you of the incident in Wutai…?"

Instantly, the girl's cheeks flamed. "Point taken. Shutting up."

"Not that the Wutai Fiasco wasn't hilarious, but shouldn't we include Tall-dark-and-confused in the conversation?" Azriel noted with a nod toward Acheron.

"Then stop interrupting me," came the reply, with a slight roll of the eyes. "Again, I apologize… and truly regret having to ask this of you, but we have no other options…" The archangel fidgeted uncomfortably, glancing down at the two beside him, who were mercifully silent. Curiosity was occasionally more effective than duct tape.

"You need me to babysit," Ash said, less than pleased, but no longer surprised.

The archangel winced guiltily. "More or less… Azriel is still the only one able to transport the girl to other planes, and is in no condition to do so at the moment. For a quick recovery, he must return home, and she cannot accompany us. We will, of course, see to it that she has all that she needs while here, but, well… we need someone who can act as a proper guardian…"

Ash was silent as he thought about this. While he was being given time to actually answer now, and had a chance to say no, there was a soft kind of feeling there that made him pause. There was a rather likely chance that— even if only for a few days, should he take on the task of looking after this girl—one thing or another would go wrong, and the potential for horrificness at stake here was daunting, to say the least. But there was something about the kid that stuck with him, that wiggled in through his defenses and poked at his soul, and it was something that seemed too innocent to ignore. He glanced down at her, where she sat with her arms wrapped around one of the angel's, cheek pressed against his shoulder and looking up him with a look he could read without even trying. There was a hefty amount of fear, worry, and pain, and he could almost see the walls going up as she braced herself for rejection, but behind it all there was a spark of hope that was firmly rooted in an unwavering trust that astonished Acheron.

What the hell. He'd done much more dangerous things before and lived to not think about them. "Alright. I'll do it…"

"Don't forget to make him sign the waver," Azriel whispered loudly.

"He's joking!" the archangel quickly countered with a glare at the miscreant angel.

"…Thank you…" the girl murmured faintly, and when Ash looked back down at her, he saw awe and respect in her eyes; he found preferred those over tears.

The screech of tires announced Kyrian's arrival, and with a sudden rush of wind, the angels vanished. Mara fell sideways as her support vanished, and looked just as surprised at the hasty exit as Acheron as she pushed herself back up to sitting upright. Throat tight, she lifted the feather resting beside her, bedraggled and stained with something dark and red. She forced through the roiling emotions bombarding her, taking the opportunity to compose herself as Ash greeted Kyrian and explained the situation. Wiping the stray tears away as he finished, she pulled herself up slowly, leaning on the wall behind her as her body rebelled. She ignored it and turned to face two people she'd never expected to meet, stomping down the bubble of nervous laughter threatening to escape as the word 'hero' ran through her mind.

"You look like you've had a hell of a night, kid," Kyrian remarked as he looked her over where she swayed. She laughed softly, in agreement and something like relief, only for the tears to come rushing back again. "That bad, huh?"

Sniffling and nodding as she wiped at her eyes, Mara looked up at the last people she wanted to have a breakdown in front of. Though, she reminded herself doggedly, at least she hadn't given herself a concussion… this time.

* * *

**A/N: Yay, editing! Now I don't have to gag every time I read this story. Chapter three shall be edited soon, also, have no fear! And also, until then, please ignore any inconsistencies. They are being addressed post haste. **


	3. Roll Over Beethoven

Disclaimer: Sherrilyn Kenyon owns the Dark-Hunter-verse and peeps and such, and Sephiroth and Final Fantasy VII are property of Square Enix.

**Embracing Adversity**

**Chapter 3: Roll Over Beethoven**

One unexpected perk of having the flu, it seemed, was that Mara didn't have the energy left to cry any more. She couldn't seem to muster the energy to care, either, and instead focused all that she had on pulling herself together and reigning in the rampaging emotions still reeling from her trip across worlds and the slowly dawning realization that this time, she didn't have her guardian angel there with her. She swallowed heavily and switched tactics, deciding that listening to Kyrian talking to Amanda over the phone might be a better way to shut the growing fears down before they engulfed her. Lucky thing she did, too, because just as she started paying attention, she heard the former prince of Thrace asking his wife if she minded another guest.

"Um, I don't think that's such a good idea…" she called, voice shaking, but at least loud enough to be heard.

Frowning, Kyrian turned to look at her. "Why's that?" he asked, and she noticed the hint of caution that had entered his voice.

"Because I'm pretty sure I'm contagious still," she informed him, flushing from more than just her fever. It was bad enough she was imposing on them, and the fact that her illness was inconveniencing them further made her feel almost as queasy as her school cafeteria's mystery meat Mondays.

"That's a pretty good reason," Kyrian assented, and relayed the news to Amanda. Sometimes he forgot his wife was psychic, but in moments like this it was impossible.

"I know," Amanda replied lightly. "She'll stay with Tabitha until she's better."

"Does Tabitha know this?" he asked, and the idea that his sister-in-law might be entirely unaware that she was about to play hostess was more amusing to him that he thought his wife would approve of.

"Of course she does. She's expecting you."

Shaking his head in amazement at the wonderful oddity that was his life, Kyrian turned back to the girl. "Well, it looks like you get to stay with Tabitha for a while. That work for you?"

Meekly, she nodded. "If you're sure it's ok…"

"It has been commanded, and I never argue with my wife," he replied, returning his phone to his pocket and retrieving his keys. "So, kid, what's you're name?" he asked as he unlocked the sleek ride.

"Mara," she answered quietly.

"Well, Mara, get in the car," Kyrian called jovially as he slid into the driver's seat.

"But… what if I infect it…?" she protested, glancing over her shoulder and so far up at Acheron.

He sighed softly. "Then I'll disinfect it when you get out," Ash assured her patiently.

"B-but…" She hesitated.

"Get in the car!" Mara squeaked and did as the Atlantean forcefully requested, timidly sliding into the sleek vehicle. Acheron sighed and closed the door, glancing to an overly amused Kyrian. "I'll meet you there," he muttered, and then walked away, eager for the calm a short walk in the chill air would bring.

Kyrian waved him off and started the car, glancing over to inspect his passenger as he did so. He thought she looked ready to burst into tears or pass out at any moment, and there was a brief twinge of protectiveness that was stirred at the sight; she was too pathetic-looking to stay upset over. He realized that was probably the biggest reason she was sitting here at all, and wasn't simply a smear on the pavement. Well, that and the fact that Ash was secretly one of the nicest people in the universe...

"Hey… Kyrian…?" the quiet voice asked, pulling him away from his thoughts. He glanced over again to see the girl pulling at her zipper and looking nervous and thoughtful, but there was also an unmistakable edge of determination beneath it all.

"What's up?" he asked, and—not for the first time—felt a chill of foreboding at the reminder of how badly this might end for all of them if this child was more dangerous than she appeared.

"Did… did Acheron… did he ask you to do all this for me as a favor…?" she stammered, still staring intently at her zipper.

"… He did…" Kyrian replied after a moment, and mostly because he was curious as to what she would say. "Why?"

"Um… Would… would it be ok if I owed you that favor instead?" came the soft, worried, and totally unexpected answer.

That was the moment it which Kyrian fully understood what Ash had meant when he'd said this kid was from another world and knew about them without ever having met them. That was also the moment Kyrian stopped worrying about her presence being catastrophic. He reached over and ruffled her hair. "I think we can call it even."

Neither Kyrian nor Mara were surprised to find Acheron waiting for them when they arrived at Tabitha's. The Atlantean sighed in exasperation as Mara lingered nervously beside the car, fidgeting; he didn't have to be psychic to easily read her concern about contagions. She glanced up at him, then back at the car, and then back at him, and he almost laughed. Almost. And then he realized that she was, in fact, shivering. He walked up and shut the car door, killing any stray germs with the contact, and then turned and rested a hand against her forehead. There was a slight fever, as he'd thought, but it wasn't as bad as he'd expected. Frowning, he reached a bit further, and noted the serious case of anxiety boiling over; he wouldn't be surprised at all if she suddenly started hyperventilating. What honestly surprised him was the bone-deep cold, and it was then that he finally noted her attire, which given everything else going on, he'd failed to take in earlier. Flimsy pajama pants that were actually decorated in red hearts, a black tank top, and a thin, incredibly worn jacket sporting several holes. She didn't even have shoes on, only brightly colored socks that did nothing to protect her feet from the winter chill.

The door opened then, and the men both couldn't help but wonder if Amanda had known something more about this girl than she'd let on, if sending them to her twin sister was more than mere convenience. Tabitha Devereux took an immediate liking to the small girl huddled between her brother-in-law and his old boss. There was something about her that screamed kindred spirit, and at the moment she looked so teeny and lost between the two giant men that it was hard not to take pity on her, standing out in the cold in nothing but her pjs. "Aw, honey, c'mon inside and let me make you some hot cocoa," Tabitha said with a kind smile, and the girl grinned back gratefully.

Mara was asleep within five minutes of sitting down, and Kyrian carried her to the guest room and tucked her in while Acheron explained the odd situation they found themselves in to Tabitha. Kyrian returned, and pulled Ash aside, quietly relaying the conversation he'd had in the car. Acheron was stunned into silence, and Kyrian clapped him on the shoulder cheerfully. "I know she has the potential to be dangerous, but at least give her a chance," he advised gently, and then with a smile he was gone. Ash shook his head, and was about to return to the kitchen when a rustle in the air behind him announced the arrival of another guest.

He turned to see a young, smiling angel carrying a suitcase and a notebook. "Excuse me, but you are Acheron Parthenopaeus, yes?" he asked in a musical voice. And in flawless Atlantean.

Ash stiffened, but forced himself to relax as he remembered that angels spoke in the native tongue of whomever they spoke to. "I am," he replied, in English.

Without batting an eye, the angel switched languages. "I come to bring some of the girl's things, and Azriel has asked that I also give you this," he said, holding out the notebook. Ash took it with a nod. "I shall leave this in her room…?" the angel said, through he trailed off questioningly, looking to Acheron for permission. Again, he nodded, and the angel smiled again before vanishing as quickly as he'd come.

Ash glanced down at the cover of the notebook he held as Tabitha walked over, glancing at him curiously. "An angel just delivered it," he explained dryly, turning it so she could read the title. "A Guide to the Care and Feeding of Your New Mara."

Curious and amused, the two sat down to read. "Congratulations is not the word that should be used in this situation; but "I'm sorry" springs to mind pretty quickly. Enclosed for your continuing sanity are the dos and don'ts of your new guardian role, helpful tips, blackmail options, and general information about the kid now in your care."

"…Wow…" Tabitha muttered, impressed by the level of snark. They'd just read about Mara's virulent addiction to Chinese food and gummi bears when they felt it. It was hard for an Atlantean god and an empath to miss the shift in the air, or the sudden burst of pain and terror as the girl sleeping a short distance away slipped into the grip of her nightmares. One glance at each other, and they were both racing up the stairs.

* * *

Mara stared in confused horror at the village burning around her, chilled despite the intense heat of the flames that reached her even at the entrance of the manor. "No… NO. This isn't…" she stammered desperately, mind racing as fast as her heart. She swallowed thickly and forced herself to take a deep breath through burning lungs. "I stopped this once," she reminded herself. "And no demon playing in my head can stop me from doing it again." This was her dream, her memory it was messing with. She could feel it, watching, and it infuriated her. It was a good thing, then, that she'd been a lucid dreamer for as long as she could remember, and this was a battlefield where she had all the advantages.

There was a flash of lightning, a crash of thunder, and then the heavens opened up. Water cascaded around her, extinguishing the fires within seconds and managing to impress the Dream-Hunter watching the situation carefully. A glint of silver amid the lightning drew Mara's attention, and her rage grew. Her nightmares always had the same themes, she'd learned, and this one was no different. This attempt to break her by playing on all her fears at once—her own often-useless attempts to help, to save people, to change the worlds around her for the better, of losing the important battles the people she cared about—had an interestingly inverse affect, D'Alerian noted. Fueled by anger and sheer force of very stubborn will, she ran after the insane general.

"SEPHIROTH!" Mara screamed into the reactor. "ENOUGH!" She grabbed the chain beside the walkway and leapt. It caught on a pipe and she let go, slamming into the man below with enough force to send both of them to the ground. Mara rolled, springing onto her feet and planting herself in front of the silver-haired SOLDIER rising before her with a murderous glare. "Enough."

"Get out of my way, little girl…" he growled darkly, stalking forward with his sword raised.

"You don't tell me what to do!" she snapped automatically, hands on her hips. "And **don't** call me little! "I am travel-sized for your convenience", but I can still kick your ass." It was at this point that D'Alerian was convinced he would have to return to the Atlantean and explain why the girl wouldn't be waking up. But instead of skewering the kid, the swordsman frowned thoughtfully. There was a sense of recognition there, which meant… "C'mon, Seph, what's it gonna take for you to snap out of it? Do I need to dye your hair pink again?" she teased mercilessly.

There was a light of sudden recollection in emerald cat-eyes, and the man sighed heavily. "Dammit, Mara… what the hell have you done this time?"

Mara grinned. "Technically, this time it wasn't me. Something demon-y is playing around with my dreams, and I guess you got pulled in somehow. Sorry, guy."

Sephiroth grimaced, glancing around nervously. "So we're in your head right now? I'm not about to get mauled by bunnies, am I?" His only answer was an evil laugh that did absolutely nothing to reassure him.

* * *

"There is a dark power manipulating her dreams, calling souls from other worlds into them," D'Alerian announced as he returned to the bedroom where Acheron and Tabitha waited anxiously. "Though she does have the ability to manipulate her own dreams, this could become dangerous. I will send a Dream-Hunter to keep watch on her."

"Can I pick Xypher?" came the sleep-slurred and completely unforeseen request.

"Absolutely not," D'Alerian replied instantly.

"Solin?" Mara countered hopefully.

"No." Did the child have a death wish?

"… Delphine?" she asked beseechingly.

"Perhaps…" D'Alerian acquiesced, and leveled the girl with a questioning stare. "But first, please tell me how you are acquainted with the warrior from another world."

Mara blinked. "Who, Seph?" she asked through a yawn. "His was the first world I got sent to. This is only my second."

"What world were you in?" Tabitha asked curiously.

"Final Fantasy VII's Gaia. I was accidentally summoned out of a Bahamut materia… twice." She laughed softly, a nostalgic smile flitting across her face.

"... Did you really just refer to Sephiroth, who is arguably the baddest villain in gaming history, as "Seph"?" Acheron asked in astonishment.

"Well, it was either that or Fluffles," Mara replied nonchalantly.

"And… how exactly did you manage to not get stabbed for that…?"

The grin she shot him was nothing if not devilish. "I have my ways…" she answered vaguely. Ash was beginning to realized there was a lot more to this girl than met the eye. He wasn't sure yet if this was for the better or worse, though either way, it was bound to be interesting…

* * *

**A/N: Yes, yes it will be… And thusly the editing is complete! Well, until I next decide that my writing is terrible and have another one of those "Oh, GAWD, why did I put that on the internets where people can READ that crap?!" moments. **


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